Nobody could accuse Viggo Mortensen of letting success go to his head. Since playing the iconic chiselled hero in the Lord of the Rings trilogy he's seemed bent on destruction in gritty thrillers like A History of Violence and Eastern Promises. In the ironically-titled Good, he stars as a member of the newly formed Nazi party, but it's the fact he is so timid by nature (a professor of literature) which proves intriguing. It's another well-considered turn by a thoughtful actor, but there's also an innate aloofness about Mortensen that keeps you from feeling for his plight.

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John Halder (Mortensen) is a family man and a teacher who is flattered when Nazi officials compliment one of his obscure novels. They seduce him with a high profile position at a prestigious university, making it clear that his role in the party would be as a thinker not a doer; writing a paper on the case for euthanasia. In the build-up to the Second World War, the true extent of Hitler's madness has yet to become apparent, but Halder turns a blind eye to the book burning (surely offensive to a literature professor) and, worst of all, rationalises the persecution of Jews, specifically of his friend and World War I comrade Maurice (Jason Isaacs).

It is a gradual build-up to the pogroms when Halder must stop theorising and take action. Till then the focus is as much on his family life, the first half feeling like the portrait of a midlife crisis. Halder leaves the mother of his children (Anastasia Hille) for a pretty young Aryan (Jodie Whittaker) and must also deal with an ailing mother (Gemma Jones) who uses emotional blackmail to get his attention. The problems Halder is initially focussed on are mundane, but in emphasising that, director Vicente Amorim (adapting C.P. Taylor's play) renders the film uneven. When Maurice finally comes begging for exit papers, it takes the film into different territory, but the urgency of the situation is assumed rather than woven into the story.

Arguably, the most interesting dilemma belongs to Whittaker in the role of Anne. When she becomes a mother her primary concern is for the safety of their family, so she attempts to persuade Halder to cut off all contact with Maurice. Whittaker delivers a finely tuned performance, though sadly she still comes across as the femme fatale who leads Halder astray. A scene where she's sexually turned on by the spectacle of him in an SS uniform drives the point home. Even more so towards the end, it feels as though Halder is being punished for having left his first wife even though she is just as passive as he is (if not more so). That is a curious inconsistency of the film; that the one time Halder steps up and follows his heart, he is made to regret it.

Maurice's decision to throw himself at his friend's mercy is, again, more interesting than Halder's response to it. Isaacs (better known as the shifty Lucius Malfoy in the Harry Potter series) plays the character loud and proud, so a scene where he invites Halder to dinner to ask the important question - dishing up scraps on a posh silver service - is the most moving of the film. Unfortunately, for the most part the moral issue at the heart of the story is either pushed too far to the background or kicked around like a football in a very confined space; still bound to the stage in dialogue-heavy scenes. And overall, nothing new is said about why good people stood by in a crisis and did nothing. Instead, Halder's detachment sets the tone for the film.